


Something Unpredictable

by LSFOREVER



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (after the fact), (i think that's all here's hoping), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Edging, Exhibitionism, Full Consent, Full Consent from both parties but they don't talk about it before hand, M/M, Office Sex, Relationship Talk, Secret Santa, Sex Talk, Sex Toys, Under-Negotiated Kink Play, Unplanned D/s play, Unplanned Subspace, at Louis and Harry's workplace, buttplug, leather cuffs, mentions of finger fucking, mentions of rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 13:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5418770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LSFOREVER/pseuds/LSFOREVER
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Harry peers inside the gift bag, but all he sees is stuffing paper, the room too dark to see anything else. After turning on the lamp at the corner of his desk, Harry takes out the stuffing paper, then feels around for what's inside. What he comes back with surprises him so much that he nearly drops it, clapping his hand over his mouth after a small sound comes out.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Office AU where Harry plans a Secret Santa Christmas Party for his office floor. What he hadn't planned on, was some certain gifts that make him blush like crazy. Also featuring Mr. Tomlinson, The Boss Man; Zayn, Louis' best friend and company co-owner; Niall, Harry's cheeky mate; and Liam, the oblivious sweetheart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Unpredictable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tragickingdom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tragickingdom/gifts).



> Title taken from Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) by Green Day.
> 
> Thank you lxrrysmut for the wonderful prompts. I chose this specific prompt solely based on the fact that this exchange is called HL Secret Santa and I thought it was perfect. (Although I did try to include a little from the other two prompts as well). I hope you like this!
> 
> Thank you to the mods for putting this exchange together! I can't wait to read all the other wonderful fics! :)
> 
> Forewarning to lxrrysmut and the rest of my readers: This is still currently in beta mode and will be edited periodically. Sorry for the inconvenience, but I was not able to finish this with enough time left for my betas, **Z** and **A** , to look through it. Seeing as it's final exams season for both me and the lovely **B** (who usually helps edit for me if my betas/britpicker cannot), hopefully you can understand that this fic may not be edited perfectly. I have looked through it twice myself after finishing it, so hopefully I managed to fix most of the mistakes. Sorry in advance for any more that occur. I would be very greatful if someone were to inform me in the comments section of any major mistakes or confusion that they have, so I can fix it right away. Thank you and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Xx

 

Harry  Styles is a man of many talents, and one of those talents is getting himself into awkward situations in split seconds without any recollection of how it’s happened. It’s something he hates, quite a lot actually, but the fact that he knows just how to charm himself out of those forsaken moments is something that he loves at the same time.

Only, not when he’s in the presence of The Boss Man, Louis Tomlinson.

Which happens quite a lot, seeing as Harry is Senior Editor, meaning his office is on the same floor as Louis’, right next to his office, actually. He should be used to this by now, after two years of working for Louis; Harry knows, he does. But Louis has always managed to fluster Harry, no matter what they are talking about. And that really sucks, too, because working for England’s most popular modeling company, located in London, means they are either constantly talking about or surrounded by models and cameras.

The good thing, though, is that Mr. Tomlinson never seems to be put off by Harry’s awkward nature. In fact, Louis seems like he enjoys Harry’s flustered states more than he probably should.

Like now. He’s sitting back in his chair with his legs crossed, hands tangled on his knee, while his lips are quirked up at the corners and his eyes sparkle with amusement. And though Harry notices each and every little tic and twitch, every emotion that runs through Louis’ eyes, he still continues to ramble, growing redder and redder by the second.

“…he said she will be better soon, so he should be back soon. I just thought I’d—” Louis cuts him of there with a wide smile, saying, “It’s alright, Harry,” in quiet voice.

Harry’s mouth snaps shut, and he bites his lip as he feels his cheeks grow impossibly warmer, toe scuffing along the ground. “Sorry,” he replies quietly. He can’t tear his eyes away from Louis’ sharp cheekbones, though, and stubble-dusted chin. He realizes that he didn’t need to talk extensively about Niall going home to Ireland to stay with his sick mother for a few days, that a quick explanation as to why Niall couldn’t help with the preparations of the office holiday party coming up would have sufficed.

As it is, he stands there feeling like a complete fool, and Louis just sits across from him, mouth still turned up at the corners slightly. After a long moment of silence, Louis sits forward again, chin resting in the palm of his hand, elbow on his desk, and he stares up at Harry with wide eyes. “Niall has plenty of personal days left, he’s fine to be home for a little while. Thank you for the story, though; it’s always nice hearing you ramble.” Harry bites his lip harder, and Louis’ eyebrow raises the slightest. “If you want,” he continues, “Someone else to help you with the party, I’m sure I can find someone who isn’t busy as fuck with tomorrow’s issue.”

“I think I should be fine, Mr. Tomlinson,” Harry slowly says, wringing his hands together behind his back. “Thank you, though. If I desperately need anybody I’m sure Liam would be willing to help.”

Louis’ wide smile is back, and he sits back again, resting a foot on his knee and staring at Harry with that invasive yet warm gaze. He says, “Zayn or I could, too, you know. If you ever want a final word on anything.”

“I, uh. Yeah, of course. I should, um, probably get back to work. Sorry for interrupting you, sir.” Harry nods his head a little, knowing he’s acting like a complete knob but not being able to stop it. He smiles and slips out quickly before Louis can stop him and doesn’t stop to breath until he’s safe in his own office. “Fuck.”

Though he considers Louis a friend—eating lunch together almost every day, catching whatever footie match they can in Louis’ living room after work is over, and heading to the bar every other weekend to relax a little, well, it would be hard to believe they aren’t friends—Harry has a switch in his brain that turns on every time he’s at work. He can’t stop it either, is the thing, and suddenly he’s the most professional he can be. That’s partly why he gets to awkward around Louis a lot, because Louis will crack a joke or whisper puns in Harry’s ear or try to talk to him about a game, and Harry won’t know what to do. He has to act professional because he is at work, yet his boss is trying to make him crack all the time.

It’s a never ending cycle that Niall teases him for all the time. Harry ignores Niall’s teasing more often than not anyway.

After sitting and downing a whole water bottle, Harry turns some music on softly in the background and gets to work on reading through tomorrow’s issue. It’s currently nine thirty two, he has two and a half hours to look over the magazine and finalize it before they give the go ahead to start printing copies, and he has to start a list of all the things he has to do for the floor Christmas party in three weeks.

Not too busy of a day, but still a little stressful.

Knowing that Louis will most likely invite him over after work to watch the Chelsea game tonight will get him through it.

-

A week before the short holiday break is scheduled to start, Harry has the preparations for the Christmas party ready—technically _holiday party_ , as to not discriminate, though everybody on their floor celebrates Christmas so Harry isn’t too worried—and he asks Louis if they can call a floor meeting so everybody can pull a name from the hat. “I want to give people plenty of time to find something for the person they get,” is his explanation when Louis asks why so early. “A week and three days should be enough. I think.”

“Alright. I’ll do it right after lunch,” Louis replies, eyeing the fedora filled with little strips of paper, one for each person working on this floor. Each floor is allowed to have their own party if they want, but there are only a few doing so. “Everybody’s name in there?” he continues.

“Yep. Yours too, Mr. Tomlinson,” answers Harry, and he ignores the slight wince on Louis’ face—Harry knows that Louis doesn’t like it when he calls him Mr. Tomlinson, but he still does it anyway. He sets the fedora on the corner of Louis’ desk and sips at the tea he has in the other hand.

Louis snatches it up, peering inside, then dumping the slips of paper on his desk. Harry is about to protest, but then Louis places the fedora on his head, and though he always complains when Harry wears them and says they are stupid, the fedora honestly looks good on Louis. Especially with the suit Louis is wearing today. “I hate that you wear these,” murmurs Louis. He smiles though, then takes the hat off and starts putting the paper back in it.

“Once everybody is back from lunch, I’ll call a meeting. Probably in the lift bay? Since that’s where the most room is.”

“Alright. I’ll head over then.” Harry up and leaves before Louis can reply, wanting to get as much work done as he can before the meeting.

When Janet, the secretary right outside the lift bay, phones him that everybody has come back from lunch, Harry peeks his head in Louis’ office to tell him, then heads over to where he needs to be. A few seconds later, Louis’ voice comes on over the intercom, calling everybody to the floor meeting.

And of course, Louis is the last to show up, nodding at people as he passes them, until he’s standing next to Harry with the fedora in his hands. “Thank you for coming everybody,” he calls out, putting on this charming smile that sends butterflies through Harry’s stomach.

Harry catches Niall’s eye and flushes, looking away quickly. The few days Niall was away were both heaven and hell; Harry missed the fucker, obviously, but he didn’t miss the cheekiness. He forcibly looks away, smiling briefly at Zayn standing next to Niall and at Liam and Emily.

Harry stays quiet as Louis tells the floor about the annual holiday party, explains the short list of rules, and asks if anybody is not able to attend. It doesn’t take long, and the people who can’t come step away so they can get back to work. Harry ends up walking around with the hat, letting people pick a slip of paper, reminding everybody they need to keep who they get a secret. When it’s just him and Louis left, Harry picks one of the last slips, letting Louis take the last one.

He got Janet, and already he knows what he’s going to get her.

“Alright,” Louis continues, loud to silence the murmur that fell over everybody. “Get back to work. Please remember to keep your person a secret, and if you got me—” a smirk, more like smolder, grows on his face, “—my favorite color is dark red and I love footie. That should be all.”

A few people chuckle at that, then they all head back to their respective cubicles or offices. “I’m Skyping my sisters later,” Louis says once they are alone in the lift bay, Janet busy on her phone. “You should come over. I’ll text when I’m home.” He flicks the rim of Harry’s fedora, and with that, hurries back to his office, probably to get ready for the meeting he has with a potential new employee’s lawyer.

Harry wonders who it could be this time and figures Louis will tell him later.

-

It isn’t until the day of the party, when Harry has just finished pulling his boots on and is shrugging his coat on, that he remembers someone else got his name and bought something for him. He hasn’t noticed any weird behavior or invasive questions from anybody all week, so unless the person who got him didn’t give a shit at all, Harry isn’t too anxious about what his gift will be. It’s most likely someone he knows, more than the rest of the floor, which is really only a few people. Being Louis’ third in hand tend to have its perks.

He doesn’t think about it again until he’s setting his almost-perfectly wrapped gift for Janet on the gift table on the far wall of the large meeting room, eyeing the empty space where all the different boxes and gift bags will be, imagining the different shapes and sizes and colors.

It’s a brief thought, though, because Louis is sidling up to him, hand squeezing his elbow, lips turned up in a bright smile. “Before you say anything,” Louis starts, “I forbid you to call me Mr. Tomlinson. If you do I’m sending you home and you won’t be allowed back until break is over. Secondly, come with me. I want to show you something.”

Harry opens his mouth to protest, but Louis continues, “We can finish setting up in a second.” Harry shuts his mouth, following Louis until they are in his office. Right there, on Louis’ nearly bare desk, is a large cake. Whoever made it must be a genius artist, because they managed to make the different colored frostings look like the galaxy pattern that everybody has been obsessed with lately.

“Wow,” Harry comments, walking closer to get a better look.

“Right? Lottie’s husband’s store gave me a discount, as long as I advertise them around the building.” Ah, that’s right. Harry almost forgot that Charlotte’s husband co-owns a local cake bakery. “It’s beautiful, innit?”

Harry’s nodding before Louis’ finished talking. “Let’s take it out there. Why’d you put it in here rather than on the table out there. Would’ve been easier.”

As he helps Louis lift the cake, obviously a two-person job because of how large the thing is, Louis answers, “Zayn wanted me to get the magazine’s logo instead. He won’t have room to get mad if he doesn’t find out until the party is in full swing. He and Niall will be late, by the way.”

By the time people start showing up, Harry and Louis already have a shot each under their belts, the decorations and food all set up, Christmas tunes playing in the background from Harry’s iPod. The meeting room, which is rarely ever used, fills quickly, and before Harry knows it he’s eaten two slices of the red velvet galaxy cake, has sung Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer with Liam on the karaoke machine, and has almost died from laughing at Louis’ crazy stories that are absolutely not true—he would know.

He knows it’s soon time to start giving out the gifts, and then after eat the dinner Louis had arranged, last second, but he really needs to piss and Zayn won’t shut up about whatever he and Niall did the second they were home for the break.

Louis is across the room, surrounded by some coworkers that are listening intently to, no doubt, one of his made up fables, and Harry sees Liam trying to flirt with Emily and probably failing. (Poor lad has been trying to take her on a date for almost year; he doesn’t realize that Emily is interested in Jane from the sixth floor).

Eventually Harry’s bladder is about to burst so he interrupts Zayn, says, “Gotta piss, be right back,” before scurrying off.

Somehow, Louis catches him in the doorway, having crossed the room without Harry’s knowledge—not that he keeps tabs on the man, or anything—hand gripping his hip. “Where’re you going?” he asks.

“Pee,” is Harry’s answer, slipping out of Louis’ grip.

He’s grabbed again, though, this time Louis’ hand tight around his shoulder. Louis turns him the opposite way of the communal bathrooms. Before Harry can ask, Louis is whispering in his ear, “Use mine. Closer and cleaner.”

Harry scurries away as soon as Louis lets go, not caring that he probably looks like a giant dork.

A minute later, feeling much lighter and happier, Harry snicks Louis’ office door shut behind himself, then walks back in the direction of where he hears the low murmur of the party going on. Something catches in the corner of his eye, though, and when Harry stops he sees that it’s his office door, slightly open. Through his glass door, Harry can see something sitting on his desk that definitely wasn’t there earlier when he came to get his iPod doc.

He shuts the door quietly behind himself, eyes on the plain black gift bag sitting in the middle of his desk. “What?” he whispers to himself.

Harry peers inside the gift bag, but all he sees is stuffing paper, the room too dark to see anything else. After turning on the lamp at the corner of his desk, Harry takes out the stuffing paper, then feels around for what’s inside. What he comes back with surprises him so much that he nearly drops it, clapping his hand over his mouth after a small sound comes out.

In his hand is a butt plug, sleek black. There’s still a sticker across the widest part that says the company it’s from, so Harry doesn’t worry about it maybe being used. He does, however, set it down as fast as he can, staring at it with wide eyes.

Yes, he has a few toys of his own at home, in a shoebox in the back of his closet, but he bought all of those himself. He’s never received sexy toys before.

After a second longer, Harry reaches back into the bag and comes back with black leather cuffs, a removable chain linking the two, and he flushes even harder. He’s never played with leather cuffs before; they feel soft and just one alone would look like a bracelet. Hm.

He checks the bag again, but the only thing left is a small note card that reads ‘ _Enjoy. ;) xx_ ’ in fancy ink.

All Harry can think about is the fact that he now owns a butt plug and cuffs. Fuck.

Jumping when his phone starts buzzing in his pocket, Harry stuffs everything back into the gift bag and stores it under his desk. He almost forgot where he was for a second and that anybody could’ve walked by and seen him. The blood rushing through his veins almost startles Harry a bit, but then he remembers that he does have a bit of a exhibitionism kink.

Harry checks his hair in the mirror he has on the only wall that isn’t glass, making sure his long curls are where they are supposed to be, then checks the message on his phone on the way out. ‘ _where r u!_ ’. It’s from Niall, Harry chuckling to himself as he speed walks back to the party.

“Right here,” he whispers in Niall’s ear after sneaking up on him, who jumps and hits his arm once he sees who it is.

“Where’ve you been? Louis was looking for you—” the mention of Louis’ name spikes Harry’s heartbeat for a couple seconds, “—and I need some advice.”

Harry raises an eyebrow at that. Niall never needs advice. At least, not from Harry anyway. Harry’s eyes scan the room, snagging on Louis and staying there. He’s so fucking attractive, is the thing. Harry noticed earlier when he got here, but he never really gave himself time to appreciate Louis. He’s in some charcoal grey slacks that hug his thighs and arse perfectly; dark green, short sleeved button up that shows off his biceps, perfect contrast to his perfectly tan skin; and his hair is swooped over his forehead in a way that looks casual but probably took an hour to put together.

Louis’ laughing at the moment, eyes scrunched and sharp teeth gleaming in the light, and Harry bites his lip, stuffing his hands in his almost nonexistent pockets. Louis is beautiful. Harry maybe finds the older man more attractive than he should, both in looks and personality, but he’s long past caring.

“Harry!” Niall hits his arm again, and Harry shakes himself out of his trance, eyes focusing on his shorter friend. “Stop ogling over Lou and listen to me for a second.” Harry raises his eyebrows, nodding, and Niall sighs. “Zayn finally kissed me, last weekend when I got back from Ireland.”

“What?” Harry is much more focused, eyes glancing over at Zayn, who’s standing by Louis. Leaning in, Harry whispers, “He kissed you? Fina-fucking-ly.” He’s been waiting forever for those two to finally move past late night, drunk cuddling and denying feelings. “Oh my god. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Niall rolls his eyes, sighing out like he’s slightly annoyed. “I don’t know, okay? I wanna ask him out but I don’t want to do it while we’ve both been drinking.”

Humming, Harry taps his chin, trying to watch Zayn as subtly as he can. “Do it in the morning,” he suggests, “After you’re both sober again. You’re probably gonna crash at his again, like always. Offer him food. You’re both in love with free food.”

Niall is quiet for a few long moments, contemplating, so Harry reaches behind himself to get some eggnog from the drink table. He grabs a second cup, and when he turns back, Niall says, “Thanks, H.” He doesn’t say he’s going to take Harry’s advice, and Harry doesn’t really care if he does or not. As long as Niall gets what he wants out of this.

“You’re welcome.” Harry pecks Niall’s forehead, mumbling, “I’ll find you later, yeah?” then ambling over to Louis. Zayn eyes him for a second longer than he normally would, eyebrow raised just the slightest, and Harry has a feeling he wasn’t being as subtle as he could’ve been. Oh well. “Here,” he says to Louis, handing the other cup of eggnog to him.

“Oh, thank you, Harry,” Louis murmurs, not seeming to care that Harry interrupted his story. His smile is bright as his arm sneaks around Harry’s waist, pulling Harry to his side, then continuing like he hadn’t even been interrupted.

Zayn is still eyeing, but at one point Harry catches him sneaking a glance at the Irish man on the other side of the room. Liam is standing on the other side of Zayn, seeming very interested in Louis’ story about his younger twin siblings (it’s one Harry’s heard multiple times so he can tune out for a little bit).

Louis’ hand is warm on Harry’s hip through his jeans, thumb sneaking up under Harry’s shirt, pressing to the bare skin there and sending chills up his spine. Louis is a lot more hands-y tonight than usual, not that Harry minds, and it’s a bit dizzying. Good thing they’re opening the presents soon. Louis won’t be as close while talking to the whole of the party.

Harry thought wrong, apparently, because it’s only a few minutes later that Louis is yelling out to everybody in the room that the gifts will be handed out soon, and then dinner soon after that. His arm is still around Harry’s waist, eyes sparkling like he’s proud to have Harry by his side. Harry has a hard time keeping his breathing normal after that.

The people in the room start to whisper amongst themselves as Louis brings Harry with him to the table, Zayn and Liam following close behind. Niall meets them at the table, cheeks pinker than they were when Harry last spoke to him, and he asks, “How’re we doin’ this? Walk it to them? Call their name to come get it?”

“We’re walking it to them,” Louis answers, arm finally dropping so he can pick up the closest gift. Harry takes his drink and sets it down with his own, then proceeds to pick up the two closest gifts to himself and finding who they are too.

It doesn’t take very long for the five of them to hand out the gifts, and soon Louis is yelling out again, “Thank you for participating. Dinner will be served soon.” He turns back to Zayn, asking, “It’s all ready, right? We just have to bring it in here?”

“Yep. Liam and Niall will come help.”

Harry is about to follow the three out, when a hand is wrapping around his wrist and pulling him back. “You can stay here with me,” Louis says, breath hot against Harry’s neck. Harry has to repress a shiver, turning to face Louis. His eyes catch on the last two gifts left on the table.

“Are those ours?” he asks, reaching out with the hand not caught in Louis grip to pick up a small box. It has his name on it, and the curiosity from early shoots through his mind again.

“Yeah. We can open them later. We have to help set up.” Louis takes the box from Harry’s hand, as well as the last gift bag, and sets them on the ground behind the fake plant two feet away.

Harry bites his lip and tears his eyes away from that perfect arse. He can think about that later.

 

After everybody has had their fill of the delicious food that Louis probably had flown in from somewhere two hours away, people start leaving, either alone or in groups, and it doesn’t take long for the room to empty out, leaving Harry, Louis, Zayn, Niall, and Liam. The room isn’t too much of a mess, either, thank goodness. The only things they have to do is take down the decorations and put away the last of the food.

“Thanks for helping,” Louis says to Liam as he’s leaving, who smiles and waves back.

Niall leaves next, though Harry knows he’ll be waiting by Zayn’s car in the car garage.

Zayn leaves soon after, while Harry is folding up the last extra table and leaning it against the wall.

When he turns around, he sees Louis standing there with their gifts in his hands, small smile playing at his lips. He’s wearing his coat, and Harry’s is draped over his arm. “Ready to go?”

“Yep.” Harry takes his coat from Louis and slips it on. They ride the lift down together, Louis standing close enough for their arms to brush and complimenting Harry on his party-throwing skills. Blushing, Harry tries to blow it off, “Oh, it was just a simple party. Nothing too fancy.”

“Are you saying you could throw a fancy party then?” Louis teases, a glint in his eyes that throws Harry off a bit. He had too much eggnog. “What if I told you I wanted to throw a surprise banquet for Zayn’s birthday next month? Think you could handle that with so little time?”

Harry rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling as they walk out into the car garage. “Are you actually throwing a banquet for Zayn’s birthday? What special thing did he do to deserve a _banquet_?”

“Besides being my best friend since we were ten? Well, he did manage to snag us an interview with Chris Hemsworth in early February, a few days after your birthday. I don’t know about you, but I think that kind of feat deserves a fucking castle made of chocolate.”

“Fuck. Are you serious?” Harry’s stopped walking and is staring at Louis with wide eyes. “Zayn gets to interview Chris fucking Hemsworth? That lucky bastard.”

Louis chuckles, hand sliding to settle in the small of Harry’s back as he leads him along to their cars. “ _I_ get to interview Chris Hemsworth,” he corrects Harry, “Zayn is just setting it all up. Niall is in charge of the photo shoot, obviously, and you’ll be there too, you know.”

Harry’s so busy trying not to have a heart attack that he doesn’t even notice Louis getting his keys from his pocket and unlocking Harry’s car. “Close your mouth and get in,” Louis says through a chuckle as he shoves Harry into his car. “Drive safe, alright? And start thinking about color schemes for that banquet, yeah? Bye, H.”

Harry finally pulls himself together after Louis shuts his car door, opening his gift to find a small heart locket necklace. On the front is his initials, and on the inside is his favorite picture of himself and his sister Gemma. There’s no name anywhere, so Harry doesn’t necessarily know who it’s from, though he’s got a pretty good idea.

He’s still smiling as he’s crawling into bed, half tempted to text Louis thank you, locket resting on his chest.

-

Two days later Harry’s editing an email Zayn will be sending to Hemsworth’s manager—normally he’d be doing this for Louis, and Liam would be doing this for Zayn, but Louis and Zayn both want extra sets of eyes all around; after Harry’s deemed it fit he’ll be sending it to Liam for a final look-through—and his laptop dies. He hadn’t even noticed his battery getting low, and he’s frustrated for all of two seconds before remembering the auto save Gmail has.

It takes him a full two minutes to realize he can’t find his charger and that the spare is in his office at work _and_ that he’ll have to drive across town to get it. Lovely.

Harry sighs, dreading having to pull on clothes; he opts for some joggers and two jumpers, not caring enough to wear an actual coat. He’ll be in his car most of the time anyway. Five minutes later he’s driving down the road, and twenty five minutes later he’s scanning his work ID to get into the car garage.

Harry quickly makes his way to the lifts, and then up to the top floor. The whole floor is empty, all the lights off, but there are enough windows that Harry doesn’t need to get the flashlight from his phone out as he makes his way to his office. It’s almost eerie, seeing his work place, a usually bustling and loud area, so empty and dead. Harry pushes himself to walk faster, wanting to hurry up and get in and out and then back home.

The charger is easy enough to find, in the back of one of his desk drawers, and just as he’s about to stand up his eyes catch on the gift bag sitting under his desk.

Everything from the party a couple days ago floods his mind, from using Louis’ personal bathroom, to hiding the gift bag under his desk, and everything between. He’d completely forgotten about that, apparently, but now he remembers vividly. Harry doesn’t have to look inside to remember what’s in the bag.

He doesn’t know why but thinking about the butt plug and cuffs sends goosebumps down his spine, a thrill of… _something_ rushing through his veins at the thought of being the only one alone in the office, probably the whole building, besides maybe a security guard on a lower floor. Harry is the only living soul on the floor, is the point, and he knows he has a packet of lube in his wallet, and it’s been a little while since he’s gotten off.

The thought shouldn’t be so appealing, using the brand new butt plug in his office. Maybe wearing one of the cuffs as a bracelet outside after. It’s not something he would normally let himself think under any other circumstances, but he’s alone and already half hard.

Then Harry’s phone starts buzzing in his pocket, startling him and pulling him out of his train of thoughts.

“Hello?” he answers without even looking at the caller ID, picking up the gift bag and charger after adjusting himself in his pants and then heading out.

“Hey H,” Louis says, voice making Harry blush even harder. If he’d let himself think about that any further he definitely wouldn’t have stopped himself, and Louis would’ve ended up calling him in the middle of activities that should _not_ be happening in the office.

Harry takes a deep breath, stepping on to the lift when the doors slide open. “Louis,” he greets back, staring down at his still half hard dick and willing it to go down. “What’s up?”

“Why are you at the office?” asks Louis, a hint of a smile in his voice.

Harry asks, “How’d you know I was at work?” Shit. Is Louis watching on the security cameras? Does he have access to all of them from home? Does that mean he would be able to watch Harry holding a butt plug and cuffs in his hands from the night of the party? Harry certainly hopes not.

“I’ve got a program on my phone that notifies me whenever any outside doors or the car garage is used during breaks. So far it’s only been two security guards a day and then you.”

“Yeah,” Harry says back, stepping off the lift, walking to his car a few feet away—nobody else here to park, so Harry wouldn’t get in trouble for parking however close to the lift. “I couldn’t find my laptop charger so I had to come get my spare. I need to finish that email, and then you said something about Stan being in town?”

“Actually,” Louis says while Harry is turning the Bluetooth on his phone on so he can hear the call throughout his car instead. “Your charger is over here? Remember when you came over the day before the party? Left it in my office here. And yeah, Stan’s is in from Berlin for the weekend. He’s going to Donny later tonight so you should try to hurry before he leaves.”

“Alright, yeah, I will. I was almost done with the email anyway. I’ll text when I’m on my way, yeah?” Louis hums in agreement, and then they say their goodbyes. Harry finally lets himself take a deep breath as soon as the call cuts, reaching down to pet at his crotch. “You’re a menace!” he whispers after realizing he’s not completely flaccid yet.

Louis’ voice is too beautiful for his own good.

-

It isn’t until a New Years Eve that Harry finally pulls out the contents from the gift bag that’s been hiding in his bathroom closet.

Harry made a huge dinner for Louis on his birthday, then they parted their ways to go to their own hometowns for Christmas day. Ever since they both got back three days ago they’ve been trying to get some friends together who are still in town for a night out on New Years, while also trying to juggle emails and electronic contracts and other things. They finally got Niall and Zayn to agree to come out, Liam said he might show up, and a friend of Niall’s, Taylor, is coming along.

That’s what Harry is getting ready for—he’s searching for his good cologne, hoping to impress Louis, and if not, hopefully a different guy for the night—when he sees the gift bag again. It seems to keep jumping out at him at the most inopportune times.

This time, though, Harry actually takes out what’s in it. He only has an hour left before everybody is supposed to meet up at Louis’ for some pre-drinking, so there’s no way he can use the butt plug, even if he hurried without prep. He puts that back, after taking the price sticker off of it, then unhooks one of the cuffs from the chain. The dark leather is soft, it fits around Harry’s wrist perfectly, and it looks like a normal bracelet, as normal as leather bracelets can get. Harry knows he can pull it off.

Quickly, Harry changes his outfit, finding something that matches the cuff better—black skinnies, sheer white button up with the sleeve hanging just barely over the cuff and the top half left unbuttoned, and his black boots and black trench coat—with forty five minutes to spare. It doesn’t take too long to get to Louis’, so Harry has just enough time to make sure his long hair isn’t too tangled, to find that cologne, and put on the locket necklace.

Harry doesn’t notice the effect the cuff is having on him until he actually gets to Louis’ and is about to hug the man. As always he looks beautiful, blue skinnies and a dark green jumper that makes his eyes pop, and Harry has to be careful as he’s hugging Louis, as to not alert him of the semi in his pants. How is he just now noticing that?

Louis is saying something and then Zayn and Niall are too, having arrived before Harry, for once, but Harry just nods along as his mind pinpoints the cuff on his wrist, tight right over his pulse point. It’s a heavier weight than Harry thought it would be, and it’s honestly quite comforting, if Harry looks past the arousal. “Gotta use to loo, hold on,” he murmurs, before anybody can notice he’s acting a little off.

Once in there Harry pulls his coat sleeve up to stare at the cuff, and then glances down at his crotch. His semi isn’t noticeable, thankfully, so Harry flushes and runs the tap for a minute, before heading out.

“Y’alright there?” Niall asks once Harry is back in the living room. He and Zayn are sitting next to each other, Zayn’s arm draped over his shoulder, to which Harry raises a curious eyebrow at, before going to sit next to Louis on the other couch.

“Yeah,” Harry answers, reaching for the beer on the coffee table and not caring who’s it is. “Just had to piss, is all.” He raises his eyebrow again at the blond while taking a drink from the glass bottle. Niall just rolls his eyes, but his cheeks are a little pinker than before.

Harry can feel the smug all over his face, while Louis deems it wise enough to tickle him. “That’s my drink, you arse!” he half yells. Harry only squirms a little before reaching down to poke at Louis’ bare feet, effectively stopping him.

“Don’t forget that I know you better than you know yourself,” Harry says, settling back into the couch and smiling at the man next to him. Louis just rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling as he takes the beer from Harry and chugs the last of it.

The presence of the cuff is still at the forefront of Harry’s mind, but he manages to mostly forget about it until the four of them meet up with the other two at the place Louis choice (“It’s both, so you get the classiness of a decent bar and the energy of a club,” Louis had argued when Harry was hesitant). After he takes his coat off and drapes it over the back of the round booth they’re in, Harry slides in at the end, Louis next to him.

Emily and Jane decided to join too, sitting across from Harry and Louis, while Zayn, Niall, Liam, and Niall’s friend Taylor are all squeezed in between. Good thing it’s a large booth.

Also, Liam doesn’t seem as adamant about talking to Emily as he usually does, and he smiles whenever Emily and Jane do something cute, so Harry is proud of him for finally realizing and respecting them.

He’s smiling, sipping at the drink Louis ordered him, when Taylor says his name. “Hm?” He looks at her, having only said hi to her when they met, but nothing else. She’s a cool person, but Louis is next to him and the Jamily (as Louis has secretly dubbed their name) duo across from him; Harry’s been too distracted to actually talk to her.

“I like your bracelet. Is it leather?”

Harry feels his cheeks heat up instantly, unconsciously reaching over with his opposite hand to thumb along the edge of it. It presses to his pulse point harder, and Harry squirms the tiniest bit before making himself answer, “Thanks, and yeah.”

“Bit unusual, but you pull it off,” Taylor compliments. There’s a sparkle in her eyes that wasn’t there before, and Harry feels himself blush even harder—if only she knew.

“Thanks, again,” he forces through a chuckle.

He crosses his legs, slipping his hands between his thighs to warm his icy fingers up a bit, but then Louis, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet, snatches his wrist up before he can. His thumb wiggles under the leather on the inside of Harry’s wrist, and Harry feels the full effects of just that one thumb pressing over his veins hard. Fucking hell.

“I like the bracelet, too,” Louis says quietly, though his gaze would say otherwise. He’s glaring at it like he wants to rip it off, and Harry starts to worry. “You should wear it more often,” Louis continues, quieter.

Then he drops Harry’s wrist and pointedly stares at his drink on the table, and Harry worries a little more. He lets it go, though, for now, because Louis is dragged into Zayn and Liam’s conversation about super heroes, looking like he normally does.

At least he’s looking happier now. Harry probably won’t be wearing the cuffs as bracelets anymore.

 

Harry has a hand around his dick as soon as his flat door is locked behind himself, eyes staring down at the cuff on his wrist.

Fuck Louis. Fuck Louis and his deft fingers and smirking face and—fuck!

All night Louis hadn’t left Harry’s cuff alone, reaching for it at the most random times, whether it be a quick brush or wrapping his fingers around Harry’s wrist around the cuff. His eyes always seemed to peek towards it when he thought nobody else was looking, and about half way through the night, once Harry was thoroughly flushed and in need of some alone time, Louis’ sheepish glances turned into smug stares, sending Harry further down.

Whoever gave these to Harry probably had no idea they would turn Louis into the worst tease.

Harry left soon after the countdown to midnight, not having the guts to find someone to go home with or kiss at midnight—not with Louis around, acting like he was. He and Louis ended up hugging real tight and cheering together, and then Harry claimed he should be leaving, due to a sudden queasy stomach.

In reality, he just needed to find a lot of alone time in a very private place, after having Louis pressed up against him like that.

He’s already half way there before he remembers he bought a new thing of lube a couple weeks ago and hasn’t used it yet, stripping off the rest of his clothes save the cuff and sprinting to his room. He grabs the other cuff from the bathroom on the way, snapping it on, then wobbling to his bed. His hand is back on himself and a dry finger petting over his hole before he’s even fully comfortable, head and hips propped on pillows, lube next to him on the bed.

Harry sighs as the first finger slides in himself, feeling how tight he is and biting his lip. It’s been too long since he’s fingered himself, even longer since he’s shagged anyone, so just one finger is nice. He keeps pumping at his cock, thumbing under the crown and squeezing at the base, doing all the things he likes, until he’s relaxed enough to slip a second slick finger in.

He curls those as soon as they’re all the way in, gasping at the way they slide over his walls. The pressure is nice, and he’s already close to his prostate.

Harry kicks at the sheets and doesn’t care how loud he is, too drunk to care. His flat is empty anyway, so he lets himself be as loud as he wants, especially once he finds his prostate three fingers deep, stripping his dick faster and faster. Fuck, it feels so good. Harry knows he won’t last long. He’s proved right when his phone starts ringing a minute later, and after looking over he sees Louis’ contact picture lighting up the screen.

After a few more prods at his prostate, Harry shouts and spills over his stomach, hips bucking and toes curling at the delicious orgasm ripping through him.

His phone is still ringing as he’s coming down. Not wanting to disappoint Louis, Harry answers it right before it goes to voicemail. “Hey,” he says, too drunk to care about how breathy he sounds or how he’s probably getting his phone all sticky now. It’s got a case; it’ll be fine.

“Harry! You left your coat in my car,” Louis greets back, voice entirely too cheery for the moment.

Harry winces, but he’s smiling, still breathing hard. “I’ll get it back eventually,” he replies, not too worried about his coat at the moment. He wipes his fingers off on the sheets, then scrounges for some trackies, a clean pillow, and his other duvet. The couch sounds nice right now.

“You feeling alright? You left in a bit of a rush. I just dropped Taylor off and Zayn and Niall just drove home.”

“I am, yeah. Just wanted to rest.” Harry yawns as he spreads out over the couch, pulling the duvet up to his chin. “Sorry about leaving so fast.”

“That’s alright. You get your rest,” Louis says, sounding more serious now. “I’ll see you in a few days, yeah? Unless we decide to hang out sometime before work starts up again.”

Harry says, “Maybe. Might drag you out to lunch with Gem and I day after tomorrow. Or tomorrow? I don’t know.” Harry sighs and chuckles a little, brain too foggy from the alcohol and orgasm. And Louis’ voice. But what’s new. “Now let me sleep, yeah?”

Louis groans, but Harry can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Alright, fine. I guess your sleep is important too.”

“Night,” Harry whispers through an affectionate eye role.

“Night.”

-

He hadn’t planned on it, but the night before Harry has to be back in to work, he falls asleep two hours earlier than usual, which means he wakes up two hours earlier than usual.

Harry doesn’t have anything to do besides get ready, so it’s while he’s finishing a bowl of cereal that he decides he has enough time to get himself off.

He moved the new plug into his room yesterday, after washing it thoroughly twice—just to be safe—and he takes it out of the bottom drawer of his bedside table, as well as the lube. He’s three fingers deep, gasping at the way they catch over his prostate, when something from an article he was proof reading yesterday pops into his mind— _instead of finding one thing to stick to all year, try something new every day_ , is what it had said, including examples like listening to a different kind of music, buying a different brand of shampoo, trying new styles.

He doesn’t know why he thinks of it, but then his eyes catch on the plug sitting next his knee, and a horrible idea pops in his mind.

Forcing himself to do it before he can chicken out, Harry lubes up the plug, then slowly and carefully pushes it inside himself. He winces a bit at the widest part, slightly wider than his three fingers, but it’s snug after it pops in. It doesn’t move very much at all, not daring to slip out or anything.

Until Harry’s standing, that is. It shifts then, and it shifts as he’s walking to the bathroom. Harry has to stop half way there, hand on the wall to steady himself at the way it presses up against his spot.

Taking a cold shower helps the hard on situation. If he gets off now, it’ll just be uncomfortable, wearing the plug all day. The cold shower helps that problem, and he quickly wipes down the sweat from his body and most of the lube from between his thighs and cheeks—he doesn’t want any wet spots on his briefs and jeans.

Half an hour later Harry is standing in front of his flat door, fully dressed—boots, coat, beanie, and scarf, too—and contemplating on whether or not he has enough time to back out. He’s trying something new, is the thing, but it’s on the first day back to work, and he knows he’ll be walking funny and acting funny for the duration of it.

The thing is, will it be worth it? Will walking among his completely oblivious friends and colleagues while wearing a butt plug be worth the outcome later? Yeah, he’ll have more than plenty of material in his wank bank, but what if someone knows? Not knows, obviously, because nobody at work knows what Harry is like when he’s stuffed full. But someone is bound to make the conclusion that Harry’s turned on. He just hopes it isn’t Louis.

Harry slowly walks to his car, knowing he has the time. He has to take a second to shift around, finding a comfortable enough way to sit for the ride there. Once there, Harry walks slowly so the plug doesn’t shift too much inside of him. There are people milling about all around him, and the lift is almost full so it’s stuffy, and Harry is almost panting by the time he manages to make it to his office, only having been greeted by a few people.

Sighing as soon as his office door is shut behind him, Harry sags against it, rubbing his free hand down his face. He’s sweaty, and Harry grimaces at his damp hand. The plug feels heavier than before, probably only because Harry is more aware of it now than before, if possible. He takes deep breaths as he walks to his desk, then takes his time getting comfortable in his, thankfully, cushioned chair.

Harry thinks about the fact that he’ll have a lot of things to do at his desk today, it being the first day back in two weeks, and is thankful for that. He won’t have to move around too much.

 

Louis comes in not too long after Harry arrives and is working on an email, and he’s holding a stack of papers. “I need these copied and put on my computer, please,” is his way of greeting, which startles Harry a bit.

“No hi, Mr. Tomlinson? Figured I deserve at least a hi after I cooked you a nice dinner two days ago,” Harry teases, and if it’s mostly to stall a little longer from having to get up, then so be it. Harry doesn’t want Louis to see him wobbling around anyway, knows Louis will make fun of how graceful he isn’t. Leaning back in his chair, Harry just barely manages to suppress a wince as he crosses his arms and adds, “Hi.”

Rolling his eyes, Louis comes to sit in the chair across from Harry, crossing one leg over the other, then putting the small stack of papers on top of Harry’s keyboard. He pats it, then leans back in his own chair, now looking smug rather than irritated. Harry can’t keep his blush down. “Hello, Harry. How’s life changed for you since we last saw each other?”

Harry huffs but he’s smiling, trying to ignore the fact that his beautiful boss is sitting right across from him, while he’s stuffed full. Oops. “Nothing’s changed. You would know if something did,” he mutters, shifting a bit so the plug isn’t pressing to one side for too long.

Louis’ smug look grows into a smug smile, and Harry’s stomach does a couple flips. “Really? You would tell me right away if anything significant happened?”

“Yes, I would,” Harry answers truthfully. He doesn’t think he could ever keep anything from Louis—aside from his huge crush and the fact that he has an exhibition kink. Those are probably better left unsaid.

“Harry,” Louis says with a pointed look, voice more serious now. Curiosity and a bit of terror and something else runs through Louis’ eyes, Harry notices, but he stays still.

“Mr. Tomlinson,” Harry replies in the same tone, though his is a bit more confused, as is he. What is Louis fishing for?

Louis groans, hands coming up to cover his face as he slouches back in his chair. Harry frowns; he didn’t want to frustrate Louis. Far from it. Breaking his professional wall just for the moment, Harry says, “Hey, Lou,” in a soft tone, “What’s wrong?”

Shaking his head in response, Louis stands, back straight and eyes serious again. “Nothing, Harry. Please get those files on my computer ASAP,” and then he just walks out, without even looking at Harry once or saying goodbye.

Harry’s frowning the whole time he looks through the papers. One is a contract and the other is a NDA, both having to do with Chris Hemsworth’s visit and interview. Slowly, Harry stands, taking it one second at a time, as to not jostle the plug inside him too much. There’s a small room down the hall that has multiple printers and scanners in it, so Harry sets on his way with slow, careful steps.

The room is empty when Harry gets there, and he sets to work scanning the documents, sheet by sheet, and then transferring them to a flash drive. When he’s done about ten minutes later, Harry turns to leave, but he’s stopped by Louis standing in front of the closed door. They’re alone, and Louis has his arms crossed and his eyes are calculating. He shouldn’t turn Harry on as much as he does.

“Mr. Tomlinson,” Harry greets politely. Part of the reason he still calls Louis that is because of professionalism, but also because he knows how much Louis hates it and he loves to tease the man.

“Come here,” Louis says in return, shoulders broad, back straight, and head high. He’s exuding so much dominance that it only takes a second before Harry is stumbling over his own feet to come stand right on front of Louis. It’s not even that far away from where he was before, since this is a pretty small room.

Harry’s eyebrows furrow, hands behind his back holding the flash drive and papers. “Is everything alright?”

“No,” Louis outright says. He doesn’t look upset though, more overwhelmed than anything, intensity painting his face. He’s really starting to worry Harry, who, momentarily, has managed to forget the plug deep inside himself. “Harry. Tell me you had an amazing and rough shag last night and that’s why you’re limping around everywhere.”

Harry’s breath audibly catches in his throat, his face and neck and whole body growing much warmer than before. He bites his lip, clenching around the toy. It’s been almost seven months since he’s been with anybody sexually, and he says so out loud, hands gone sweaty and stomach flipping.

Before he can even blink, it seems, Louis’ managed to turn them around and push Harry up against the door—thankfully wooden, and the walls are white, so nobody would be able to see in—with his thigh between Harry’s and his breath hot across Harry’s neck. “Never thought you’d wear it to work when I bought it for you,” he whispers roughly, thigh pressing right up against Harry’s semi, which is rapidly fattening with each breath Louis fans across his bare skin.

Louis smells amazing, and there’s a rough scratch to his voice and forceful touch from his fingertips, demeanor so dominant—Harry’s already gasping and biting on his lip to stay quiet. Sure, they’ve cuddled a few times, but Harry’s never been this close to Louis before, and it feels too amazing to stop.

He bites his lip harder when one of Louis’ hands travel down his back and squeeze his arse, fingers pressing between his cheeks to the base of the plug. It moves inside Harry, closer to his prostate, and Harry huffs out a quiet, breathy moan at the feeling. “Lou,” he whimpers, keeping his eyes squeezed shut. He wouldn’t be able to look Louis in the eyes right now to save his life—he’s so embarrassed and turned on at the same time.

Especially now that he knows Louis is the one who bought him the plug and cuffs. Louis knew all along while he was wearing just the one on New Year’s Eve. He knows now, too, how much Harry likes being turned on in public. And how much he likes being stuffed full.

Louis keeps pushing on the base of the plug through Harry’s pants, shuffling it closer and closer, until finally, when his teeth graze across Harry’s pulse point in his neck, the tip of the plug slides across his prostate—all at the same time. Harry nearly shouts, the papers in his hand crinkling in his effort to keep his noises in as much as he can. His cock is fully hard now, and it’s going to be impossible to hide if Louis leaves him like this.

Heat shoots down Harry’s spine and his hips buck, crotch pressing harder to Louis’ perfect thigh. “Oh,” he whispers.

“I’ll get us lunch today,” Louis eventually says, quiet and commanding. “And you’re not to leave the office tonight until I tell you to, alright?” Harry nods instantly, squeezing around Louis’ thigh, all dignity thrown out the window by now. Louis is hard in his slacks, too. Harry can feel it against his own thigh, so he isn’t scared of showing how much he wants Louis at the moment.

But then Louis steps completely away from Harry, and he nearly whimpers. Louis’ brow is sweaty and his palms are clenched into fists at his side. He looks like he’s trying to hold back so much, even though Harry definitely doesn’t want him to.

“Do not come,” Louis orders, eyes intense as they stare into Harry’s. “Not without my permission. Don’t take the plug out, either.” Then, with that, Louis nudges Harry out of the way and walks out of the printing room, shutting the door softly behind himself.

Harry sags against it, hand coming to hold his crotch, willing himself to calm down.

If he’s not allowed to come or take the plug out or leave until Louis gives him permission—which is an entirely different thought that sends heat through Harry’s body—then today is going to be longer than Harry thought.

 

It’s only around two hours later, when Harry is about to try and make it to the break room for some much needed tea, when Niall busts in. He’s holding two steaming mugs, has a bright smile on his face, and shuts Harry’s office door behind himself; Harry is suddenly much more thankful for Niall’s existence than he was before. He sags back in his chair, not even wincing at the way the plug shifts inside him. He’s starting get used to the way it shifts every time he does. Hopefully that’s a good sign, at least.

“Niall, you’re the best,” he says as Niall hands him the hot mug, warming up his hands and clearing his airways as he breaths in the steam. It scolds his tongue but that’s how he likes it, and Niall chuckles as he sits himself down on the chair across from Harry. After taking a few much needed sips, Harry whispers, “Thank you.”

“Lou said you were feeling a little sickly today and might need some refreshments periodically, so thank him,” Niall replies. Harry’s cheeks go hot, but he can blame that on the steam hitting his face.

He looks over at Louis through their glass wall they share to see he’s already watching him and Niall. Louis gives him the smallest smile, but his eyes are hard and a bit smug, so Harry quickly looks away. “Yeah. Bit overheated, I guess. I’ll probably just sleep it off tonight. But still, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Did I get it right?”

“Yeah,” Harry answers, “He’s the one you have to worry about making tea for.” Harry points his thumb to his right, at Louis through the glass wall, who’s typing away at his computer. He looks so concentrated, glasses pushed right up to his eyes—he must’ve not wanted to mess with his contacts today. “How was your break? Any movement on the Zayn front?”

Niall’s cheeks pink up when Harry asks, to which Harry smirks at. He hides it with his tea, waiting the two seconds it takes for Niall to gulp down some tea and answer. “It was pretty good. Theo drew a bunch of picture over the past few months and gave them all to me for Christmas. And yeah. I stayed over at his a few nights in a row. We’re not exclusive, yet, but.” He shrugs, smiling down at his mug.

“Well, you better tell me right away when you do become exclusive, and you better tell me if he starts treating you like shit. I don’t care if he technically is the other boss; he’s won’t get away with being a shit head.”

With a chuckle, Niall answers, “I’ll tell you, but I doubt he’ll do that. He’s secretly a sweetheart.”

“Good.”

Harry sips some more at his tea, then sets it down so he can start typing on his computer again. “Did you figure out what you’re doing for the Hemsworth photo shoot?” he asks after sending off an email Louis was having him look through. He pulls up the checklist Louis asked him to make, waiting for Niall’s answer. They just need Niall’s short description of what he’s wanting to do for the photo shoot for when Chris Hemsworth shows up, an okay from Teasedale on whether she’ll work with Hemsworth’s team, and then they can send it off to his manager for the final okay.

“Yeah. Took me a bit because I couldn’t decide if I wanted to do a boring black and white shoot inside, or bundle him up and make him endure the cold, snowy outside. I’m still torn between the two.”

“I’ll put both down as options he can choose from before he shows up.” Harry starts typing, and then an idea pop in his mind after he takes a sip of his almost-gone tea. “Maybe we’ll give him a hot cuppa like this and have him, like, sit on a bench or something. Wearing earmuffs and a scarf, all snuggly-like. A big muscle-y guy like that looking all cuddly is everybody’s favorite. Kind of like that picture on Liam’s Snapchat story yesterday.”

Niall pulls his iPad out of nowhere and starts typing on his notes, nodding along, then he says, “That’s actually kind of perfect. Make sure you write that down in the email so he and his manager knows we won’t be freezing his bollocks off. I’m sure they’d appreciate that.”

“They would, yeah.” As Harry’s typing, he smiles to himself, glad he could help dish out some ideas to their best photographer on staff. That’s what he started doing here: photo shoots with the people they interviewed. Niall was his assistant, at the time, just starting his photography career. Slowly Harry worked his way up the chain to where he is now, Senior Editor slash Louis’ assistant, and now Niall is the head photographer.

A few minutes go by where they are both typing. Both so concentrated on their work, they jump when the door to Harry’s office swings open and Zayn walks in. “Hey,” he says in the low, cool way he always does when he’s working, before noticing Niall in the room and stopping in his steps.

“Hi Mr. Malik,” Harry greets with a warm smile. His smile grows when he sees Niall bite his lip as he stares up at the man before him, most likely keeping down a huge grin. “Are you here for me or him?” he asks after a second of watching the two stare at each other.

“Uh, both, actually.” Zayn pointedly looks at Harry, neck looking a little warm. They’re cute when they’re in the same room together; Harry keeps that to himself, though. “Louise Teasedale called up to tell me she’ll be more than happy to work with Hemsworth and his hair-makeup team when they get here. Louis told me to let you know that, since your making up the checklist for him. Also, I was also going to ask if you’ve seen Niall anywhere, but.”

“I’m right here,” Niall states the obvious, smile big on his face like he can’t hold it back anymore. “Came to cheer Harry up with a cuppa. He’s not feeling too well.”

Zayn frowns at Harry a bit, says, “Yeah, Lou told me. He also told me to have you run all my errands for me, instead of Liam. Bit odd. He’s usually overprotective of you when you’re sick.”

The confused and curious look Zayn’s sporting has Harry growing hot again, squirming in his chair. The weight of the plug is suddenly ten times heavier, it seems like, and Harry snaps his head over to glare at Louis. He’s looking back, eyebrow raised, like he’s challenging Harry to actually do something. Harry drops his hand down behind his desk to where he knows only Louis will see and flips him the bird. “Mr. Tomlinson is being a shit,” he mutters, eyes still locked with Louis’.

“So I shouldn’t give Liam the rest of the day off then?”

Zayn is smirking when Harry turns back to him, but it’s not smug. Just full of amusement. “If you plan on making me run around for the both of you all day, I’ll just use one of my sick days.” Simple as that, Harry thinks to himself.

“Then Liam will be running around for us all day. That’s not fair, is it?” Zayn teases.

“He’s not sick, is he?” Harry’s trying not to be snappy, he really is, but it’s hard when his dick is half hard again and he can feel Louis’ eyes boring into the side of his head. He kind of wishes everybody would leave him alone for a few minutes so he can cool off.

Thankfully, that’s what he gets.

“Alright, alright. You’re safe for today, okay? And I’ll tell Lou to not be such a dick. Come on, Niall. We’re going on lunch.”

“Bye,” Niall chirps, out of his chair and following Zayn in a split second. Harry shakes his head in amusement, but as soon as his office door is shut, he’s back to glaring at Louis through the wall.

He watches Louis’ movements as he picks up his desk phone and presses the small button in the corner. Harry’s own desk phone starts beeping and without breaking eye contact, Harry picks it up. “Please don’t,” is what he says, keeping his voice low. He can’t help how whiny it sounds.

Louis smirks, but it dies down soon enough, until he’s just staring at Harry with blank eyes and a straight face. “Remember the rules and you’ll be fine. You can stay here for my next meeting. I’ll grab some lunch after for the both of us, alright?”

“Nothing with onions, please, Mr. Tomlinson,” Harry reminds him in softly.

“Harry. We’ve been best mates for two years. I _know_ you don’t like cooked onions. Finish with the checklist and have Liam look over it before you send it, alright? _Goodbye_.”

Louis is only in his office a few minutes more as he gets his briefcase ready for his meeting. Harry can’t tear his eyes away from Louis’ thighs as he’s walking out. He has to grab a cold water bottle from the mini fridge behind his desk and press it against his crotch, shivering in pain. It helps him feel better faster, though, and soon he’s back to finishing the check list.

 

Louis drops the take out bag on Harry’s desk an hour later, then his fingers wrap around Harry’s wrist, stopping him from typing. His grip is tight and sends Harry’s heart beat racing. Harry doesn’t know how he’ll be able to get through the rest of the day if Louis leaves bruises. He’ll probably break one of the rules before the end of the day.

And they haven’t talked about any of this: Louis making rules and Harry going along with them. It’s something a bit more intimate and kinky than Harry thought their first—if ever—sexual encounter would be. They should definitely talk about this, too, to make sure neither of them cross any boundaries. But for the time being, Harry is more than comfortable. He loves the domination Louis is putting over him, loves that Louis is giving him plenty of outs if he wants or needs them, and loves how hot everything is getting him.

They can talk later. Preferably tonight, after Louis… well. Whatever it is he plans on doing with Harry.

“We’ll eat dinner at mine later,” Louis says with a squeeze to Harry’s wrist on the word later. “If you need a snack or something to drink, let me know and I’ll get it for you, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry pants out. Louis’ eyes look to lust-filled, they’re almost throwing Harry into shock.

Louis’ eyebrow raises, though, and he almost looks disappointed now. Harry gulps. “Okay, _what_?” he drags out smoothly.

Harry gulps again, bites his lip, then whispers, “Okay, Mr. Tomlinson?” He hopes that’s the right answer.

It must be, since Louis nods at him the smallest bit, then turns and leaves without another word.

Long day, indeed.

 

When Harry is finally done with everything he needs to do today—there are a few more things he can push off until tomorrow morning—he shuts down his computer, than slowly makes his way around his office, organizing his desk and looking for his coat and scarf. It’s an hour past the usual time when everybody leaves, and he and Louis are the only two left on the floor.

Louis is still staring at his computer screen, the only thing visible in his dark office. It’s dark enough outside that everything inside is dark, but the moon and stars aren’t out tonight so there isn’t any light streaming in from the windows.

Harry takes a few moments to gather his thoughts, knowing he has to go to Louis’ office. Coat draped over his arm and scarf around his neck, Harry takes a deep breath and slowly finds his way next door. He knocks on Louis’ door quietly, waiting until Louis looks up before entering. “Hey,” he says softly, shutting the door behind him, then stepping up in front of Louis’ desk. “Do you have much more to work on? I can help with some things, if you need.”

Louis looks tired and a little stressed, but he’s smiling up at Harry. “I’m actually just on Facebook. I’ve been done for a while now, was waiting for you.”

Harry looks down, smiling a little from knowing that Louis waited until he was done. Usually Louis can’t wait to get home and off his feet. “Oh,” he replies, “Well, thanks, I guess.”

“You didn’t think I’d just leave you here by yourself and expect you to come over right after you were done, did you?” Louis’ demanding tone is back, and Harry’s back straightens right away, body flushing with heat. He’s been hard off and on so much today that it honestly hurts. Harry really hopes he can get off now, because he doesn’t know how much more he’d be able to handle without breaking.

Louis sighs, but his eyes are bright as he rolls his chair back from his desk a little and motions for Harry to walk around. “Come here, then,” he demands. Harry drops his coat on a chair, then walks around Louis’ desk. He stops in front of Louis, and when Louis pats his own lap, Harry doesn’t hesitate before straddling him. The chair is sturdy enough for the both of them, thank god, and Louis’ thighs under Harry’s arse feel amazing.

“Good boy,” Louis coos, hands coming to rest on Harry’s hips. Harry bites his lip to keep a whine back at the term, loving how Louis seems to know just what Harry likes without even talking to him. His thumbs press on Harry’s hip bones, and he smiles even wider when Harry drops his hands to settle on Louis’ shoulders. “Did you get off today?” he cuts right to the point.

Harry feels himself twitch in his pants, a little painfully, and shakes his head no. “No. Barely even left my office,” he whispers.

“Four. You left your office four times today. I timed the last one, you know.” Louis reaches for his phone on the desk behind Harry, pressing their chests together briefly. Harry tries to not look as affected by that. After Louis unlocks his phone, the timer comes up on the screen, and it says twenty five minutes and some odd seconds. “Tell me that wasn’t a long bathroom break and the plug is still inside you.” It’s a demand if Harry ever saw one, one that makes him twitch, almost fully hard now.

“Went to talk to Niall again. I had a few more ideas for the Hemsworth photo shoot that I wanted to run by him.” Harry knows for a fact that Louis has access to all the security footage, that he was probably watching Harry walk to Niall’s office and back, no stops in between. He’s been a good boy and Louis knows this, and he hopes Louis rewards him for it. “Still wearing the plug,” Harry adds, flushing even more.

Louis nods slowly, fingers tightening their grip on Harry’s hips. “Good,” Louis quips. The next thing Harry is able to comprehend is Louis’ lips roaming up and down his neck and one of his hands spreading over Harry’s arse. One of his fingers slips between Harry’s cheeks and presses on the end of the plug, jostling it inside Harry.

Harry bites back a noise, dropping his forehead to Louis’ shoulder. “Lou,” he whispers.

A second later, Louis goes stock still, pushing Harry so he’s sitting up again. Harry furrows his eyebrows, about to ask what’s wrong, when a whistle comes from the doorway. “Louis, Harry.” Harry looks to where Louis is looking to see Zayn standing in the doorway, one eyebrow raised in the smug smirk. “In the office? Really?”

“Bugger off, twat,” Louis mutters, fingers tight around Harry’s hips. Harry feels himself blush, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his eyes fall to the floor.

“Niall and I haven’t even fucked in the office. What if the janitor or security guard came in?”

“I thought you left,” Louis says in the low voice that makes Harry’s cock twitch.

Zayn hums, pushing himself off the doorstop. “I did, and I probably should’ve stayed there.” After a second, his hand falling to the door handle, Zayn adds, “Niall’s gonna get a kick out of this. Don’t get caught, okay?” With that, he shuts the door behind himself—which is probably useless anyway, seeing as it’s glass.

When Harry turns back to look at Louis, his eyes are worried as he says, “Sorry about that. You alright?” His voice is a bit off. After Harry nods, suddenly worried, Louis continues, “You know I like you, right? This isn’t just a one-off. To me, anyway.”

Harry hadn’t even thought of that—he likes Louis too, but he’s been distracted by all the sexual tension all day to think of anything else. “I like you too, Lou,” he says back, “I really do, but me cock hurts so if we could move this along? Please?”

Chuckling, Louis moves both hands around so he’s holding both of Harry’s arse cheeks, squeezing and pulling Harry forward until his crotch is pressed against Louis’ stomach. “You,” Louis whispers hotly against Harry’s neck, “Are going to strip and bend yourself over my desk. Is that alright?”

“Yes, yes.” Harry nods quickly, Zayn’s interruption completely forgotten as his eyes go wide with lust. He scrambles to get up from Louis’ lap and do as he’s told.

“Turn around for me, love,” Louis orders, Harry complying quickly. He starts with his shirt, unbuttoning it and letting it drop to the ground. He’s slower with his pants, careful of his hard cock as he undoes them and pushes them down his legs, taking his socks and shoes with them. “These, too.” Louis snaps the waistband of Harry’s underwear, and Harry quickly looks over his shoulder at Louis before pulling those off as well.

He’s been naked around Louis before—he wears as little clothes in his own flat as possible—but it’s never been in a sexual way before, and his arse has never been this close to Louis’ face. Taking a deep breath, Harry settles his hands on Louis’ desk in front of him, letting his spine curve in a way that hopefully looks nice to Louis.

Louis isn’t looking at Harry’s back, though, Harry notices when he sneaks a peek behind himself again. Louis’ eyes are locked on Harry’s arse, mouth open slightly, chest heaving. Harry tries to not feel too proud about affecting Louis like that. Instead, he curls his fingers against Louis’ desk and wiggles his hips a little, then winces when that makes his leaking prick swing painfully. “Please,” he whispers.

“Please what?” Louis snaps, not in a rude way. More like he’s demanding Harry to tell him what he wants right now so he can do something about it.

“Need to come,” Harry whines a little, dropping his forehead to his arm on the desk.

Harry hears Louis hum behind him, hot breath fanning over Harry’s arse, making him shudder. “If I let you come now, can you come again later on my cock?”

Harry gasps, watches as he leaks more precome down his shaft just from the mention of having Louis inside him. “Yes,” he gets out, “I can, please. Oh my god.”

Louis doesn’t waste any more time before he twist the plug inside Harry from the base, then starts pulling at it little by little. Harry whines loudly when he stretches around the widest part, thighs trembling, but the rest slides out smoothly and then he’s empty. The feeling is definitely weird, after a whole day of being filled.

Harry’s panting, and he gasps when Louis pushes the plug back in. Not all the way, but enough so Harry feels the stretch. Louis keeps at that, slowly pulling the toy in and out of Harry, thumb rubbing at Harry’s taint. “This how you want to come Harry?” Louis asks.

“Don’t care,” Harry replies, “Just wanna come. Hurts so bad.”

Louis pulls away from Harry completely, and Harry hears something drop to the floor “Lou?” he whispers after seeing it’s the plug.

“Turn around, babe,” Louis whispers softly. Louis’ hands rub up and down Harry’s thighs softly after Harry does, his eyes locked on Harry’s red dick just inches from his mouth. Harry shuts his eyes tightly, bites his lip to keep from asking.

He doesn’t have to, it seems, since Louis leans forward and wraps his lips around the swollen head. Harry gasps as he tangles his fingers in his own hair, to keep himself from pulling at Louis, and already he’s on the edge. “Lou.”

Louis’ hand wraps around the shaft and starts pumping as he pulls away. “Y’can come in my mouth, alright? But you have to warn me first. Then as soon as you’re done, turn back around and lean over my desk again. Got it?”

“Got it,” Harry croaks out, gasping when Louis takes Harry in his mouth again and licks at the head. He isn’t going to last at all, heat bubbling at the bottom of his spine, dick twitching. It’s after Louis pushes two fingers from his free hand deep inside Harry and suckles lightly at the head that Harry nearly shouts, “Close. So fucking close, _god_.”

Louis pumps his hand and curls his fingers at the same time, eyes bright and a little glassy as they stare up at Harry in encouragement. It only takes two more pumps of Louis’ fingers, brushing right over Harry’s prostate, to make him shout loudly and come.

“Fuck,” he drawls out, pulling at his own hair as he spurts thickly down Louis’ throat, knees threatening to give out at the feeling. It takes him a few moments, but Harry is able to gather his wits, enough to pull away from Louis’ mouth and fingers. After thumbing at the corner of Louis’ mouth where a little come escaped, Harry does as Louis told him to and turns around, leaning over the large desk in front of him again.

“Thank you,” he whispers, chest still heaving a little.

Louis bites Harry’s arse cheek in response, hands pulling Harry’s hips back a little more as Louis nibbles closer and closer to the middle. “You’re more than welcome, babe,” Louis whispers back.

Harry nearly whimpers when Louis’ hot breath rolls over his hole, still sensitive.

“Want to eat you out right here,” Louis whispers, more to himself, but Harry’s breath still hitches. “But,” he continues, “Probably ought to head on home, hm? Wouldn’t want the janitor or security guard to find us and see you like this. Stand up straight.”

Harry stands straight, gasping when Louis stands too, so close his crotch his nestled right against Harry’s arse. Louis’ hard, Harry can feel, and Harry almost doesn’t want to wait until they get—home? “Are we going to yours?” Harry asks.

“That’s where all my condoms are, so yes. Plus my kitchen is bigger and more stocked for you to make us breakfast in the morning. Come on.” Louis pats Harry’s hip, dropping a soft kiss to his shoulder, before stepping away. “Get your clothes back on, then meet me in the lift bay, alright?”

Harry watches as Louis slips the still-dirty plug in the top drawer of his desk, then pulls his own coat on, grabs his laptop bag and phone and walks out. Harry is quick to find all his clothes and pull them on, as well as his shoes and coat. He makes sure Louis’ office light is off and door shut, before finding his way to the lifts. Louis is standing in front of one, and he smiles when Harry comes to stand next to him.

“Ready?” he asks, hand outstretched to grab Harry’s once Harry is close enough. His palm is warm and soft against Harry’s, who smiles more to himself as he nods.

“Yeah,” answers Harry after squeezing Louis’ hand.

The ride down is quiet, as well as the walk to their cars. Louis tugs Harry past his car, opening the passenger door of his own for Harry. “I’ll drive us back in the morning,” is all is he says before shutting the door behind Harry.

Harry gets comfortable, shifting until there’s less pressure on the sensitive middle of his arse. Louis laces their fingers again after he gets in and starts the car. Soft classical piano music plays in the background, much to Harry’s surprise—Louis only ever listens to piano music when he’s got some things on his mind or is stressed, and he hasn’t said anything to Harry like he usually does. He stays quiet, though, instead biting his lip and staring at the light snow falling outside. There hasn’t been as much snow this winter, not like there usually has been. No real snowfall that covers everything beautifully. Harry hopes it happens at least once.

“Thinking ‘bout the snow?” Louis asks quietly, his eyes glowing brighter from the blue accent lights inside the car, face lighting up from street lights every few seconds. He seems tired, but his eyes still have that hint of lust from earlier and his knee is bouncing.

“How’d you know?” Harry says back, just as softly, curling up even tighter with Louis’ free hand clasped between his own.

Louis hums, glancing sideways at Harry briefly with a smile. He says, “Because you’ve complained about there not being any real snow fall at all this season. Either you were wishing for more snow, or thinking about the different positions I’m going to put you in when we get home.”

Harry groans, rolling his eyes, but he smiles when he looks out the windshield. “It really needs to snow,” he replies. After Louis squeezes Harry’s hand and shoots him a smug smile, Harry adds, “And I’d prefer my legs over your shoulders, tonight, anyway.”

Choking on air, Louis almost swerves the car, catching himself just in time. He glares at Harry for a second, pulling his hand away from Harry’s and settling it over his crotch. “At least wait until we’re in the garage before you start the dirty talk. Need I remind you that I haven’t gotten off yet and I’ve been hard in my pants all day.”

“You haven’t had a plug in your arse all day,” Harry argues back, but he reaches across the console to squeeze Louis’ shoulder, rubbing at it a bit before sliding his hand down to Louis’ forearm.

Piano chords float softly through the car, filling the silence as the car inches closer and closer to Louis’ house. Butterflies erupt in Harry’s stomach when he thinks about the fact that Louis said _home_ , instead of _my flat_ , like he usually does. It makes him giddy, thinking about Louis calling it _home_ , like it’s both of theirs.

When they finally get inside, door locked behind them, Louis doesn’t wait before pushing Harry up against the wall, slipping a thigh between Harry’s and kissing him hungrily. “Gotta get all this kit off you,” he murmurs, lips searing hot against Harry’s.

Harry nods, shrugging his coat off and kicking his boots off, reaching for the buttons of Louis’ coat. “Always smells so good here,” Harry gasps out, heat rushing down his spine as Louis mouths hotly down his neck. And it’s true—Harry’s always loved the smell of Louis’ flat. Sometimes it’s more of a vanilla scent, while other times it’s spicier like cinnamon. Harry knows it’s from the scented candles Louis steals from his mum every time he visits home.

Louis grunts in agreement, fingers tugging at Harry’s shirt until Harry lifts his arms. Louis slips it off and to the floor, then steps away to strip himself down to his pants, like Harry. Harry’s mouth waters at the sight of Louis’ bare chest, sparse, curly hairs smattering his chest lightly, tattoos from his uni years contrasting from his golden skin. Harry wants his mouth all over the beautiful man in front of him, but he waits patiently for Louis’ command—they still need to talk about this. For now, though, Harry is content with seeing how things go.

He’s also very content with Louis bossing him around. But, that’s something he obviously doesn’t need to voice out loud.

When Louis steps back into Harry’s space, he whispers, “Bedroom. Now.” Harry bites his lip  to hide a smile as he nods and takes the familiar route to Louis’ bedroom. He’s slept in here a few times, mostly while Louis is away and Harry decides to house sit, but also once when he wasn’t feeling too well and Louis forced him to sleep over so he could take care of him. Harry still smiles at the memory, of Louis tucking him in and bringing him chicken noodle soup.

The sheets are still rumpled. Harry smiles as he crawls onto them after shucking his slacks—thankful he decided to wear his black, silk panties, the ones he had especially made for himself—feeling the soft Egyptian silk melt around his body as he settles. The sheets are cool but not in and annoying way, and Harry is comfortable right away, lying on his back, feet flat and knees spread wide enough for Louis to crawl between when he finally—

“Bloody hell,” Louis mutter from the doorway. Harry lifts his head to look at Louis, one hand on the doorstop and the other gripping himself through his grey briefs, a darker grey spot right where the head is almost poking out of the waistband. His eyes are dark, bottom lip caught between his teeth, and he’s staring at Harry’s legs. “So fucking sexy,” he says as he stalks in the room, not stopping until after he’s kneed his way on the bed and between Harry’s legs.

 _Perfect_ , Harry thinks with a smile.

Louis’ warm hands settle on Harry’s thighs, fingers pressing into the skin hard. Harry hopes he wakes up with bruises all over his body. His cock twitches, barely contained in the panties, as Louis leans over him to bring their faces close. With Harry’s thighs around his waist and his forearms on either side of Harry’s head, Louis leans down to bring their mouths together. Harry is eager for it, arms wrapping around Louis’ back to pull him closer, closer, until Louis settles fully on top of Harry.

Harry lets out a sigh as their hips come together, Louis’ hard dick pressing right up under Harry’s. Louis shudders after thrusting slowly twice, getting back up on his forearms to look Harry in the eyes. “You aren’t too sore?” he asks quietly, bottom lip catching between his teeth as he brushes a few curls out of Harry’s face.

“I’m fine,” insists Harry, wanting nothing more than to kiss Louis again and maybe get Louis deep inside him. “Please,” he adds, softer, licking his bottom lip and trying not to smile as Louis watches the move.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Styles,” he mutters, hips dipping down again and surprising a gasp form Harry’s lips.

Louis smirks at that, then removes himself from Harry completely. Harry bites back a whine, rolling on his side to watch Louis—watch Louis’ arse and thighs, more like—as he walks to his dresser. He reaches inside the top drawer, then comes back with lube and a condom in one hand, and a pair of black, leather handcuffs, identical to the ones he got for Harry for Christmas. Harry’s eyes widen.

“Wanted to have a pair at both of our homes,” he explains as he saunters back to the bed. He drops the condom and lube on the bed, then crawls on himself until he’s straddling Harry’s hips (who has a hard time not thinking about the fact that Louis’ beautiful thighs are _right there_ ). Harry lifts his wrists for Louis, who gets to work putting them on each wrist, then holding the chain up. “Headboard? Or no?”

Thinking about it for a second, Harry ultimately decides, “No,” and Louis connects the cuffs with the chain freely. “Can still hug you this way.”

Louis rolls his eyes but he’s smiling, dipping down to press a kiss to Harry’s chest. “Keep them above your head for now, alright? Gonna make sure your still prepped enough.”

As Louis is sliding down to settle between Harry’s legs, a thought pops into Harry’s mind. “How’d you know I liked cuffs? Leather ones, to be exact?” he asks, lifting each leg obediently to help Louis pull his knickers off.

“You mentioned it once. Last summer when we went out for celebration after the Gomez interview.” Louis sets the black panties gently next to Harry’s head on the pillow, then spreads Harry’s legs wider and peers between them, eyes growing darker. “When we got trashed with Zayn and Niall and Liam drove us all home. You crashed at mine and was mumbling something about the Fifty Shades book you’d just read. I only caught snippets of it, but I specifically remember you saying you’d much rather be tied up in leather cuffs.”

Harry knows he must be cherry red. He doesn’t remember anything of that night past their first drinks at the bar they were at. “That’s so embarrassing,” he moans out, eyes closing as a slick fingers brushes across his hole. “Y’can do two.” And after seeing Louis’ questioning eyes, he adds, “Promise. I’ll be fine.”

Louis bites his lip, but he spreads the lube around his fingers better, then presses the pads of two against Harry’s entrance until they slip in. Quite easily, too, Harry notes, gasping at the overwhelming feeling of Louis’ fingers not stopping until they’re as deep as they can go, and then curling in the most delicious way. “Fuck,” he whispers, clenching down.

“Harry. Save that for me.” Louis’ voice is much more commanding then he probably means to be, but nonetheless, Harry relaxes completely in the sheets and lets Louis do as he pleases. He only spends a couple more minutes before adding a third finger, which slides in easily enough. “Can’t wait to fuck you, love. Gonna feel so good around me. Gonna make you feel so good.”

Harry moans, both at Louis’ words and Louis’ fingers catching over his prostate. “Please,” he whispers, head thrown back on the pillows, legs spreading even wider.

Louis curses, spreading his fingers once more before pulling out and reaching for the condom. He shimmies around to wiggle his briefs off, and Harry gets his first look at Louis’ hard cock—he nearly gasps, clenching around nothing. Louis is uncut, pink head peeking out and shiny with a bead of precome. He’s got an amazing girth that Harry knows will split him open perfectly. Although Louis’ body hair is already very sparse, he keeps himself practically hairless here, and Harry’s mouth waters.

He watches with rapt attention as Louis takes the condom out of the wrapper, flinging the wrapper on the floor, then carefully rolls it down his shaft. He pumps himself a few times to spread some lube around, and Harry feels himself twitch against his stomach when Louis starts shuffling forward. After wiping his hand on the sheets—something Harry knows he’ll have to clean up tomorrow because Louis is a slob at home—Louis spreads Harry’s knees further apart, then slides his hands down the outside of Harry’s thighs until he’s gripping his hips tight.

“Ready?” he whispers as he settles, one hand releasing Harry’s hip to hold himself steady. Harry feels the head of Louis’ cock press at his entrance, his thighs trembling form anticipation. Nodding, Harry leans up for a kiss, fingers tangling together above his head as Louis starts to push in. “Fuck, Harry. How’re you still so tight?”

“Lou,” Harry whines, his own hips pushing down until the head slips in. The stretch burns, but not enough to make Harry uncomfortable. He keeps his face tucked in Louis’ neck, nodding in encouragement as Louis slowly pushes himself deeper. With small thrusts, Louis slowly works himself inside, until he’s squeezing Harry’s hips and buried to the hilt.

“Harry,” Louis whispers, lifting up to look at him. Harry steadies his breathing, opening his eyes, and he smiles. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods, moving his legs around Louis tighter, pulling him closer. “Please move,” he whispers.

Louis nods, then as he’s kissing up Harry’s neck, he pulls out until just the head is in. When he pushes back in, Harry’s breath catches in his throat, cock leaking against his stomach. Louis doesn’t hesitate in starting up a rhythm, slow to let Harry adjust, going deep.

The feeling has Harry squirming, fingers tangling in his own hair—he’s probably getting the chain from the cuffs all tangled in his curls, but Louis snapping in hard suddenly distracts him. His eyes go wide, staring up as Louis repeats the movement, punching a moan from Harry’s lips. “Like that?”

Harry’s nodding, bucking his hips up. His dick throbs, arse clenching around Louis thrusting harder now. Louis kisses along Harry’s jaw until he gets to his mouth, and Harry closes the distance, kissing Louis harder when Louis thrusts faster. His noises are lost in Louis’ mouth, arse clenching hard at how good it feels.

When a hand comes up and fingers start playing with one of Harry’s nipples, he gasps and arches, pulling Louis in harder without meaning to. “Fuck, Lou,” he whimpers, wrists pulling at the chain between them.

“Y’like that?” Louis doesn’t stop, fucking in faster as he rolls the little nub between his fingers harder. He moves to the other one, giving it the same attention and making Harry squirm more.

“Y-yeah,” he stutters, pushing his chest up for more. When Louis sits back, still thrusting, so he can use both hands to give both of Harry’s nipples the same treatment, Harry almost shouts. “O-oh, fuck. Lou.” Harry’s breathing is also a bit labored, cock throbbing and leaking precome steadily now.

“Look so good,” Louis whispers, hands spreading over Harry’s pecs, trailing down over his fluttering stomach, to grab his hips again. “Feel so good, too,” he adds quietly. His hips slow but they stay deep, rotating and rolling in just the right ways.

Harry knows what he’s searching for. Wanting to feel it too, he moves his hips down a certain way, a moan ripping out when Louis fucks hard right over his prostate. Louis looks like he’s found gold, eyes sparkling and smug as he keeps the angle and fucks faster. It feels so good, Harry pulling at his cuffs and thrashing his head side to side. Louis keeps at it, until Harry begins to feel too much, and, needing a bit of a break, lifts his hands to shake Louis’ arm.

Louis slows to a stop, staying deep. He drapes himself over Harry, pressing soft kisses to Harry’s cheek and murmuring his name softly. “Are you alright?” he asks once Harry catches his breath.

“Yeah.” Harry nods, smiling. “Just needed a second. Y’can go again.”

“One second.” Louis sits up again, reaching above Harry’s head for his wrists. He unhooks the chain from both cuffs, setting it on the bedside table. Then he loosens the cuffs and sets both on the bedside table too, fingers catching around Harry’s wrist to smooth over the roughened skin.

After kissing both wrists, Louis lets them fall to the bed, settling on his forearms to start fucking Harry again. Harry lifts his arms around Louis’ neck, stomach fluttering and cock jerking when Louis hits his spot over and over again. “Lou,” he mutters, nails digging in to Louis’ shoulder blades, feeling warmth spreading in the pit of his stomach. “Gon-gonna come soon.”

“Yeah?” Louis nips at Harry’s nose, thrusting harder as he wiggles a hand between them. Harry’s stomach flutters, Louis’ hand wrapping around his dick and pumping. He matches pace with his hips and leans down to suck and nip at Harry’s nipple. It’s all so much that Harry lets out a long whine, heels digging in to Louis’ thighs.

“Please.” Harry whimpers, feeling his orgasm coil tighter and tighter, until he’s right on edge.

And then Louis pulls up and away, sitting back on his ankles, slipping out until just the head is in. He almost completely removes himself from Harry, who’s brought back down to the bed hard. His eyes water a little, dick twitching against his stomach. “Wha—”

“Not done fucking you,” is Louis’ answer as he rolls them over. He slips out, making Harry wince. But he’s on top now so he focuses more, shuffling forward so Louis’ cock slips between his cheeks again. Louis kisses Harry as he holds himself steady, Harry gripping Louis’ shoulder as he sinks back down slowly.

Once Harry is settled and comfortable, he wraps a hand around himself loosely and pumps slowly. It doesn’t give him any real relief, but it does take the edge off just the slightest as Louis plants both feet on the bed and fucks up into Harry hard. “Oh god,” Harry whimpers, head thrown back, and he rocks his own hips back and forth so Louis brushes right over his spot.

“Gonna feel so good around me when you come,” Louis mutters, voice low and scratchy, hips thrusting up harder. He sounds more breathy; Harry hopes that means he’ll come soon.

“Yeah,” agrees Harry, only half aware of what Louis actually said. He’s more focused on the fact that Louis’ thrusts are getting sloppier, dick twitching inside Harry just the right way. His eyes are unfocused, and Harry speeds his hand up as Louis speeds his thrusts up, biting his lip to keep his sounds in as he gets closer and closer to that edge again.

“Fuck, Harry.” Louis’ fingers tighten on Harry’s hips, thumbs pressing hard on his hip bones—Harry hopes they’ll leave bruises—to hold Harry still. Harry watches as Louis bites his lip, eyebrows furrowing. He doesn’t stop moving, and Harry fingers at the head of his cock, feeling himself start to come again. This time, Louis lets him, and Harry lets out a shout as he shoots all over his hand and Louis’ stomach.

Pleasure crashes through him, intensified by the fact that he was denied orgasm before. He doesn’t know what he’s saying either, if he’s saying anything at all; all he’s aware of is Louis’ hands on him and Louis inside him and Louis murmuring in his ear, then shouting as he comes, too.

There’s a few moments, after Harry slumps against Louis, that he feels like he’s having an out-of-body experience. He knows he’s with Louis, can feel Louis’ strong arms around him and warm breath against his neck, but his head is so… He feels like he’s floating, like he has the freshest oxygen in his lungs and the warmest, softest blanket bundling up his heavy limbs.

It ends too soon, though when a familiar voice starts breaking through the fog, calling out his name. It gets louder and closer, until Harry’s eyes finally focus to see Louis, blue eyes looking into his own. “Harry?” he whispers, fingers ghosting over Harry’s cheek.

“Mm, Lou,” he mumbles, arms still feeling heavy as he lifts them around Louis. He can see their surroundings now, can see that the bedside lamp is on, that Louis has apparently cleaned them up, and that they’re both under the covers. “D’I pass out or summat?” His words are still jumbled together, but Harry doesn’t care. Louis is warm and holding him, and that’s all he cares about.

“I don’t think so,” Louis answers, fingers carting through Harry’s hair. He shuffles closer, nuzzling his nose to Harry’s cheek. “Your eyes were open and you were mumbling, but I couldn’t make anything out besides my name here and there. And your eyes were all cloudy. Still kind of are.”

“Felt good. Only lasted for a few seconds, but it was good.”

“Harry.” Louis’ eyes worry again, and he continues, “That wasn’t just a few seconds. More like a few minutes. You started whining when I went to get a flannel. But then you were fine when I got back and was cuddling you again.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow, brain working faster than it has all day. “Really? It only felt like a few seconds to me. I don’t remember anything either, really, besides _good_.”

Louis bites his lip, holding Harry closer, then asks, “That’s good? I guess? I’ve never had that happen before. Kind of freaked me out.”

“That’s never happened to me before,” Harry confesses, “But I liked it. And I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“I don’t know what I did, though.” Harry can see the worry eating away at Louis’ brain, so he pulls Louis down and breaths into his neck, rubbing his hands up and down Louis’ back.

“I’m fine, Louis. I liked that, a lot, and I don’t want you to worry about it anymore. Please? We’ll figure it out in the morning, if you want. I just want to sleep now.” Louis sighs, but he relaxes against Harry, rolling on his back so Harry’s head is pillowed on his chest.

After reaching up to turn the lamp off, Louis finally settles, nosing at Harry’s curls. “Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry suddenly feels so tired and drained, already half asleep, as he murmurs, “Night, Lou.”

-

When he wakes, it’s to Louis shaking his shoulder and saying his name. “Haz, babe, wake up.” His voice is a bit frantic with excitement, and after Harry opens his eyes and sees it’s still dark out, he groans.

“What is it, Lou?” he groans as he rolls away from the window, only to see Louis sitting up, glasses perched on his nose and laptop open in his lap, making his eyes glow. “The fuck?”

Louis chuckles, then turns the laptop towards Harry. It blinds him momentarily, Harry squinting at the screen until it’s clearer. The word ‘Subspace’ is in bold across the top, and after looking for a second Harry sees that it’s some kind of blog post, and that Louis has four other tabs open all with the same word in the title.

And that it’s four in the morning.

“Why are you up?” he asks, voice croaky as he rubs his eyes. He keeps his hands there to shield his eyes from the light. “Please tell me you haven’t been up this whole time? You do know we have to be at work in three hours.”

“I’ve only been up for a little bit, don’t fret,” Louis reassures him, “Needed to piss but I couldn’t fall asleep because I kept thinking about what happened. And I found out what it’s called. You went into Subspace.”

Sighing, Harry sits up, shuffling up to tuck himself under Louis arm. He keeps his eyes closed, says, “Okay. You still could’ve waited until breakfast to tell me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to fall asleep now.”

“Sorry, love.” Louis sounds apologetic, so Harry hums and cuddles closer.

“S’alright. So. Subspace?” He is curious to know what exactly it is, even if he’ll be losing even more sleep. That’s what coffee and tea is for, right?

Louis launches into this story—mindful to keep his voice low—about what exactly Subspace is. “According to Urban Dictionary—”

“Urban dictionary? Really Lou?” Harry teases.

“Shut up,” Louis mutters, but Harry can hear the smile in his voice. “It’s when in a D/s relationship, that very special place the submissive enters when he or she totally trusts their Dominant, and totally immerses in an intense scene. The sub may not be capable of making rational decisions about his or her safety and well-being at this point. It’s the responsibility of the Dom to provide for the happiness and safety of their sub, as they have trusted their Dom to do. It is also the Dom's responsibility after the scene to help the sub to return to ‘vanilla space’ after the scene. This entails providing both physical and emotional assurance to the sub, until they regain their sense of self, and is known as, ‘aftercare’.

“And there are a few blog posts I found that go into depth more, but basically you were in a trance where you weren’t aware of anything, high on the pleasure, or something like that. I’m just glad I did a good job taking care of you after, because apparently when a dom doesn’t take proper care, the sub will… subdrop, I think is the proper conjugation. And that’s not good on the sub’s mental health.”

“That’s… a lot.” Harry takes a deep breath, then a few moments to process all the new information. He knew he was into some non-vanilla stuff like the bondage, the slight pain kink, and giving up control, even the slight exhibitionism, but he never thought he’d go so far as to having a dom and being a sub. The thought isn’t repelling, though, is the thing, and he thinks it’s maybe just Louis. He never would’ve let any of his exes dom him. All the things he’s fantasized about have been just that—fantasies. If it were anyone else besides Louis that told him what to do in the office yesterday, Harry would’ve scoffed and done whatever he pleased.

But this is Louis, the man he’s be halfway in love with for the longest time. He trusts Louis completely with everything, with himself. That must be why he’s always so compelled to make Louis happy, to please him, and why he was compelled to do as he told yesterday.

The first thing he can think of to say is, “So you’re my dom now? And I’m your sub.”

“We… we don’t have to use those terms, if you don’t want to. I’d quite like to be able to call you my boyfriend, if that’s alright.”

Harry sits up straight and faces Louis, not caring in the slightest that he knocks Louis’ laptop onto the floor—Louis can buy a new one—or that he’s still naked. “You’re serious?” he asks quietly.

Louis doesn’t pay one bit of attention to the laptop as he pulls Harry into his lap, so Harry is straddling him, faces inches away. “One hundred percent serious. I want you to be mine, Harry, and I want to be yours, too.”

“Yes. Of course,” Harry instantly answers, wrapping his arms around Louis’ shoulders and hugging him tight.

Louis chuckles as he hugs back, replying, “Good. Wanted to get that out of the way first, before we had any serious sex talks. But—” Louis pushes Harry away by the shoulders enough to look in his eyes, “—Know that this means I’ll be taking you on the most brilliant date ever. Expensive restaurant, rented limo, tuxes, wine; the whole shebang.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry smiles as he says, “You know you don’t have to do that for me. Just because you have money doesn’t mean I want you to spend it on me all the time.”

“I want to, though,” Louis insists.

Harry doesn’t reply, knowing this is another serious talk for another time. For now, he sighs and smiles, pressing a soft kiss to Louis’ lips. “Well, since we’re boyfriends now, does this mean we can have that sex talk?”

“Of course. We can still have a dom/stub relationship, if you want. I don’t think I’ll be comfortable with it extending outside of our flats or letting other people see it.”

“I agree. That’s only for us. And I’m not too kinky or anything. Not that I know of, yet. We should at least start off slow, because last night was a bit overwhelming. I liked it!” Harry’s quick to add when he sees concern flash through Louis’ eyes. “Just not an all-the-time thing, you know? I still like vanilla sex very much.”

Sighing, Louis starts shuffling down until their heads are on the pillows. He puts his glasses on the bedside table, then turns Harry over so he can be the big spoon. “Vanilla sex _is_ very nice. But I do love being in charge, if you couldn’t already tell. The few things we’ve already done, like the cuffs and the edging and marks, are all things I’m comfortable with. But we will have to talk about more, like having a safe word just in case, if we start trying new things.”

“We could use the light system. Green, yellow, red. That’s pretty easy to remember and use. Of course, that’s when we start trying new things. I liked everything we did last night.”

“Good.”

Harry yawns, loud and big, making them both giggle as they snuggle closer. “Sleep now? I know there’s more to talk about, but I’m about to nod off as it is.”

“Yes, sleep,” Louis agrees, his own voice sounding slower, dragging a little. “We’ll go somewhere nice for lunch tomorrow and talk some more then. That’ll give us both some more time to think about what we like and don’t like.”

Harry nods. It’s a few minutes later, as he’s thinking about the last half hour, that he snorts and pokes Louis’ arm. “Lou.” Louis hums. “Our talk reminded me of Fifty Sha—”

“Don’t. Finish. That sentence,” Louis snaps, amusement high in his tone. “Can’t believe you actually read that shit.”

“If you skip over the het sex parts, it’s actually a decent series,” Harry argues. It’s an argument they’ve had multiple times before, after Louis found all three books, plus the Christian POV version, on Harry’s bookshelf a few months ago. They came in a set, a gag gift from his sister for his birthday before she gave him his actual gift. Harry was never interested in the series or movie before, but he was bored one day, skipping the sex scenes. “She’s a good author.”

“ _Sleep_ , Harry,” Louis says, “I want to try to get at least an hour more of sleep before breakfast.”

Harry chuckles but he settles, bringing Louis’ hand up to kiss his palm. His eyes droop, sleep taking over him quickly.

-

The next day, Louis does take Harry out to a nice restaurant for lunch, sat in a secluded corner as they discuss their yes’s and no’s in the bedroom, as well as money situation. Harry doesn’t want Louis spending too much on him all the time—random gifts here and there are alright, since Harry can give him random gifts too. It’s a very productive lunch, and they’re caught making out in the printing room later that day, thankfully by Niall who just laughs.

The next Saturday, Louis has apparently planned some really nice date, much to Harry’s dismay. He’s surprised, though, when the date consists of Louis taking Harry to one of the nicest restaurants in town and paying with Zayn’s card. However the hell he got that, Harry doesn’t know and wouldn’t really care to know, honestly. Then he drives them both back to Doncaster to stay the night with Louis’ many siblings and parents. The next morning he lets Harry drive them to Holmes Chapel, and by Sunday night both of their families know about their relationship.

They both forgot about the supposed banquet for Zayn, so Harry helps Louis set up a small surprise birthday party at Niall’s place. Zayn liked it very much, so it’s a win for both of them.

They both take Harry’s birthday off, and Louis spends all day pampering him. He takes him to a nice spa where they both get multiple massages and spend some time in a sauna—alone, much to Harry’s amusement. He puts Harry under later that night, after a very nice dinner, by cuffing him to the bed and making him come twice with his fingers and mouth, before fucking a third orgasm out of him. It’s the best birthday Harry’s had to date.

Harry couldn’t be happier. He’s got Louis in his bed almost every other night, the Hemsworth interview goes perfectly, and Zayn and Niall have finally come around and gotten together. Liam’s found someone, too, happy all the time around the office.

It’s a good time, Harry thinks, as he sends off the thank you email to Hemsworth’s team. There’s only a few more things he has to do before his lunch break, when he’ll pick up Chinese takeout and he and Louis will eat all of it.

He’s surprised, however, when Louis walks in a few minutes early. “We’re going out for lunch,” Louis states. There’s a stain down the front of his suit that wasn’t there before—a very nice suit, Harry notes—and he raises his eyebrows. “Zayn spilled his damn coffee on me just now and I need to go home and change. I also stole his card again so we’re going out for something nice.”

Harry stands, rounding his desk. After making sure nobody is watching from outside, he steps up in front of Louis’ their noses inches apart. “Want me to help you pick another suit, Mr. Tomlinson?” That’s another thing, too, that Harry found out. Louis likes when Harry calls him by his last name, a little _too_ much, which was why he hated when Harry would call him that before they were together. Now, Harry uses it to his advantage a lot.

Louis’ breath hitches, as predicted, and his hand shoots forward to wrap tightly around Harry’s wrist. His thumb presses hard on the inside of Harry’s wrist, punching the breath out of him, as Louis replies, voice low, “After I fuck that pretty mouth of yours, of course. Might just have to get takeout anyway. Indian sounds pretty good.”

“Lo—”

“Get down to the car,” Louis demands, lips quirking into a smirk. “You can finish up later.”

Harry scrambles to get his coat and scarf, pecking Louis’ cheek quickly before bundling up on the way to the lifts. Louis will have started his car from his phone by the time Harry gets there, and Harry feels himself harden from anticipation on the way down to the parking garage. Good thing his coat is long enough to cover it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> There actually is a post on Urban Dictionary about Subspace which can be found [here](http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=subspace). I had a few blog posts from Tumblr I was going to have Louis read from, but I wanted to cut their conversation short.  
>  **IF you and your partner are wanting to start a D/s relationship or are wanting to try anything more than vanilla, please PLEASE talk about it before hand. Sex talks are very important and must be had in order for both parties to be happy. Please be happy.**
> 
> I'll add links to my betas and to my Twitter/Tumblr once the authors are revealed. If you got this far, thank you. :)
> 
> Xx


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